

2008
"Moving in the right direction"
2024
"Moving in the right direction"
Those two questions were printed on the pocket card at every council seat, every senior staff desk, and every commission chair — a daily reminder that ethics is both an individual and an organizational responsibility. One important lesson Santa Clara learned over 14 years: When leadership at the top commits the organization to behavior at our best, good people rise to it. [Read the full story]
From 1998 to 2012, Santa Clara built one of the most comprehensive municipal ethics programs in California — from a values-based code developed from community consensus, through training for everyone, to structured reflection on how every decision affects public trust, to identifying stumbling blocks, learning from mistakes, and building the skills to do better.
Other cities copied it. Academic textbooks cited it. In 2006, six years after its approval, 91% of Santa Clarans said the City was moving in the right direction. [See the full record →]
Almost as soon as the 49ers announced Santa Clara as their stadium location in 2008, the City's attention shifted. Bedazzled by celebrity, financial possibility, and the sudden attention of deep-pocketed, politically connected people, city leaders:
Early on, it was clear that the Council majority (Mayor Patricia Mahan, Jamie Matthews, Kevin Moore, Dominic Caserta, and Joe Kornder) was determined to make the stadium a reality.
By 2009, the ethics consultant had grown concerned that the stadium negotiations were raising serious ethics issues that the City Council was ignoring. As he wrote in a proposal he submitted to city staff in 2009—and again in 2010 and 2011: "Few City decisions have as much potential impact on the public's trust as the decision about the 49ers' new stadium." He proposed a formal initiative to identify and resolve ethics issues in the negotiations as they arose. The goal was to protect public trust.
The proposal was rejected without public discussion and without explanation. That was also true in 2010 and 2011.
In retrospect, it is clear that someone or some group made a conscious decision to exempt the stadium negotiations, the Stadium Authority, and the City's largest tenant from the ethics guardrails that applied to every other person and partner connected to Santa Clara's government.
That decision was a defining moment—and its impact is still being felt today.
The signal was unmistakable: ethics and public trust were no longer priorities at City Hall. Those who had built the program understood, and they left. In 2012, City Manager Jennifer Sparacino and Deputy City Manager Carol McCarthy retired. The ethics consultant departed after the 2014 election. The stakeholder Ethics Committee was dissolved. The Vote Ethics program disappeared. No one owned the ethics program, so no one came to its defense. Without champions, no city ethics program can survive, unless it has a permanent home in the city charter.
And in May 2014, Aldyth Parle—the original community architect of the program, its long-time Ethics Committee chair, and its most faithful guardian—died at 89. She had never stopped caring about ethics and public trust. Until the end, she kept saying, "Stay with it." With her death, the program lost its living memory and its conscience.
In 2019, the City moved to fire the 49ers' stadium management company. The 49ers sued immediately—and then went further. Beginning in 2020, the team's political action committees began systematically reshaping the City Council, spending $2.9M that first year and over $10 million on Santa Clara elections through 2024. The goal was clear: elect a Council majority that would protect 49er interests. It worked. With no ethics code governing how Stadium Authority Board members should interact with Team owners or lobbyists, no behavioral standards, no ethical decision-making training, and no ethics consultant raising questions in the background, residents repeatedly watched officials act less like independent public servants and more like 49er employees.
The Mercury News called the 2010 Measure J vote "an overwhelming margin." What it actually was: 14,628 yes votes—12.6% of Santa Clara's population at the time—in an election where the 49ers outspent the opposition 200 to 1. What Jed York learned during Measure J—that Santa Clara's government would set ethics aside when stadium interests were at stake—he used fifteen years later at industrial scale.
The same dynamic runs deeper still. The City Manager serves simultaneously as Stadium Authority Executive Director,the City Attorney as its General Counsel. There is no independent counsel, no independent executive, no one in either role whose exclusive job is to represent the public's interest.
When the previous City Manager and City Attorney began pushing back against the team's interests and raising alarms about conflicts of interest: the Council majority fired them — Doyle in September 2021, Santana five months later. The message to their successors could not have been clearer.
Transparency and accountability were never built into the Stadium Authority structure. What the public has learned has been largely accidental — and increasingly restricted. In agreements governing the stadium, the FIFA World Cup, and major litigation settlements, the City Manager, City Attorney, and the majority signed confidentiality provisions that give the 49ers and their partners the practical power to decide what residents are allowed to know, even about how their public assets are being managed. When a council member moved in 2022 to discuss a major settlement in open session so the public could understand what their government was agreeing to, the motion failed. The explanation offered by Vice Mayor Becker: "We can't talk about this in public."
Santa Clara now faces another defining moment. The decisions the City makes in the next few months will affect every Santa Clara stakeholder for generations. Three of those decisions are already in motion—and each one is heading in the wrong direction.
Ethics Code Revision—Four Fatal Flaws
First: No one knew this was happening. After an eight-month delay, the City Manager hired a lawyer—not a consultant with expertise in values-based ethics codes, and not the Markkula Center for Applied Ethics, which the Mayor had recommended and who had helped the City develop its award-winning Code of Ethics & Values—but a lawyer who specializes in defending cities against employee lawsuits.
She worked in secret for a year, with no announcement and no public process. In March 2025, she presented not a review of the existing ethics documents but a brand new replacement code to an obscure subcommittee meeting at 10 am on a Monday morning.
A public records request on October 15, 2025, asking how "review" became "replace" was closed in mid-January 2026, after five delays with nothing produced and two days after the Governance and Ethics Committee was scheduled to discuss, and perhaps approve, the replacement ethics code. The Committee ran out of time before the Code was discussed.
Second: The product. The consultant produced a follow-the-law compliance-only code which guts the previous code, and strips out the behavioral standards residents once used to hold officials accountable. The League of California Cities' own guide for creating an agency ethics code features Santa Clara's code as a model and recommends values-based codes. Its author, JoAnne Speers is now a consultant in private practice.
Third: The scope. The new code applies only to the City Council — not the other two elected positions, commissioners, staff, or the Stadium Authority, which has operated without any ethics code since 2014.
Fourth: The public was excluded by design. The City Manager's informal RFQ—sent privately to seven law firms—specified five deliverables. None mentioned the public. The consultant was to analyze current ethics documents, review the revolving door ordinance, benchmark other cities, present findings to the Governance and Ethics Committee, and eventually present to the full Council. That's it. In a process to revise the ethical standards that govern how elected officials treat residents, residents were not mentioned once. Santa Clara's original code was built on a community consensus about core values, asking residents what trustworthy government looks like and what character traits trustworthy officials display. Those answers became the code. This process left public input out entirely. That speaks volumes about Santa Clara's current government. [Read the full story →]
2. Ethics Commission — A Predetermined Answer
Two Civil Grand Jury reports — 2022 and 2024 — recommended an independent ethics commission. The reason is not complicated. The 2024 report put it plainly: "Under current rules, Councilmembers have the sole authority to examine and police their behavior, a task they have proven themselves unwilling to do."
The City's response has been to study the question rather than answer it. A consultant was hired—the same process, the same staff, the same closed-door approach that produced the replacement ethics code. No proposal exists. No timeline has been set. Meanwhile, the questions being asked in committee reveal a predetermined destination: find reasons an ethics commission doesn't fit a city Santa Clara's size, consult cities chosen by the same staff who hired the wrong ethics consultant, and avoid the two questions that actually matter: what standards would the commission enforce, and why does the Grand Jury keep recommending one?
The resistance isn't only about protecting this Council from accountability. A toothless commission, a compliance-only code, and a Charter with no ethics infrastructure means every future council inherits a city with no guardrails. More and more, that appears to be the design.
These three initiatives if done correctly can rebuild public trust. If done the way they are going, they will lead to further destruction of public trust and a 49er supported city council. What are the chances this city government will change its direction. Not a chance, given their track record. Take a look at just six decisions. this is the tip oif the iceberg.